Four- Nightmare
Saruman groaned, he felt groggy and a slight headache pressed against his temples. He shifted around and wondered when he had gotten into bed….
Realization made his eyes shoot open and he quickly sat up in a rather comfortable bed with expensive sheets and an ironwork headboard. He began to look about the room he was in and nearly had a heart attack for right next to the bed, sitting comfortably in a chair, a book in one hand and gun in his lap was the man Saruman had been having nightmares of.
Sauron.
He grinned at the kindergarten teacher as he casually closed the book and placed it upon the table.
"Well, if it isn't sleeping beauty. I hope my boys weren't too rough in collecting you, my Venus."
Saruman couldn't speak, he was too freighted and enraged to form words. But finally he managed to make his tongue move.
"Where is he? Where's my Olórin?! What have you done with him?"
He gripped the sheets and as he flexed his feet he realized he wore only socks- his shoes were gone. As was his jacket, much to his dismay; he was left in nothing but his tighter pair of jeans and a thin, white shirt.
Sauron's eyes narrowed as Saruman flung questions at him, though his grin remained. He hummed in thought.
"This Gandalf must really be something if you're so worried about him. Don't worry, he's not dead. Yet. Nor that cute little male cop that tried to interrupt your pick up today. My Orc gang wasn't as gentle with them, though, I have to admit." Sauron's tone was lazy and full of dismissal.
Saruman's eyes widened at his words.
'Male Cop? Detective Zimmermann?!' He thought frantically.
"What did you do? Where are they?!" Saruman was beginning to get riled up as his anger and anxiety heightened.
He quickly stilled when Sauron casually picked up the gun in his lap, though he did not point it at him.
"I'm beginning to feel a little jealous, Saruman. Here I finally come to pick you up, and not only do you hide behind another-someone who left you before no less!-but also all you do is talk about him and another man when we finally get to talk! Very rude, I have to say." His voice continued to hold a bored tone, but there was a dark undercurrent that made Saruman's hairs stand on end.
As he continued to speak Sauron moved his hands about, nonchalantly waving the gun around.
"No Hello. No 'How are you?' Nothing. You've cut me to the quick!"
Saruman frowned at the man's fake dramatics.
"I told you last time I never wanted to see you again. I didn't want to be with you then and I don't want to be with you now!" Saruman's infamous temper was getting the better of him, overriding his fear.
He threw the covers off himself and began to move off the bed but stopped when Sauron clicked the safety off the gun and sent a shot into the nearby wall, his bored/slightly annoyed expression never changing.
"There'll be none of that now. You sit that sexy ass down and be still. Daddy's patience is wearing a little thin with his Curumo. Too much nonsense and I might do something you'll regret."
Saruman felt a shiver go down his spine at Sauron's words and change of tone to an icy edge. His heart began to race. It sped up tenfold when Sauron rose from the chair and was suddenly atop him, in what seemed like a moment.
Saruman struggled as he was pressed into the bed, his wrists restrained by the other's hands-Sauron had left the gun off to the side, safety on but in reach- and kept above his head, on the pillows. Weight pinned his hips and legs, his heart began to flutter frantically like a caged bird.
Despite this he tried to remain somewhat calm, trying to not let Sauron have the complete dominance he sought.
"Look at you. All white, long hair and blue jeans and ridiculous sweaters over plain shirts." Sauron practically cooed.
"You look like a gay kindergarten teacher."
Sauron lowered himself down until the two of them were almost chest to chest, and his mouth was at Saruman's ear.
Hotly he said, "But we both know that's not the real you. Nor was that repressed college professor I tried to steal away so many years ago. No. We both know what you really are."
"Stop it!" Saruman struggles intensified, but it was to no avail.
He had always been more of an academic than an athlete.
Sauron grinned at his prey's discomfort and almost pleading. The writhing body beneath him just reminding him of old times.
"Yes, we both know that really, you are nothing but my personal piece of ass. My little minx that likes to sit on my lap and take all the cock that Daddy has to give you." He began to ground his hips into Saruman's, an obvious bulge in his pants.
"No! No! No!" Articulation was going out the window for Saruman. He had had nightmares of being in this situation for years, helpless under Sauron once again, and now it was a reality. And to make it worse he was starting to give an involuntary response back, his overly sensitive body betraying him.
He irrationally wished for Gandalf to come and save him, like some fucking shining knight.
"Oh yes. Yes. Yes. My little, studious whore. Putting on a show that you're this straight-laced educator, but I know you still burn for it. Like you once did, especially after a line or two. I have to wonder, does that Gandalf of yours know about that?
How you were so starved and wanted it all, and how you loved to be completely high while I took you?"
Tears began to prick Saruman's eyes, he did not want to remember these things. He had buried them deep within himself; he had been in a very dark place when he had met Sauron, and had done many things he regretted.
He had only used while they were together and had been clean since college. Gandalf knew none of this, the shame being too great for Saruman to share. Not even Galadriel knew.
"No he doesn't! And I regret every moment of it!" He yelled and with a sudden surge of frustrated anger redoubled his struggles, trying to buck the stronger man off of him.
Sauron simply laughed at his efforts, he shifted and suddenly more weight and strength was pressing down upon Saruman. In not too long Saruman stopped, breaths heavy, he wasn't as young as he once was.
Sauron returned to his ear.
"Do you? Really? I highly doubt that witless lover of yours could give you what I once did."
Saruman's nostrils flared, and his sharp tongue flared out.
"So you think! Gandalf has given me the pleasure of a mighty hammer, compared to him your slip of a dick is nothing but a blunt dagger!"
The hands upon his wrists began to squeeze painfully as Sauron's face slowly filled his vision. There was a sharp grin on his lovely lips and a fire in his eyes.
"Seems someone has gotten a bit of iron in their spine over the years. It's a good thing I know how to work with metal, specifically on how to break it down!"
With strength and speed Sauron brought Saruman's hands up higher and tied them to the headboard with his strong leather belt. The other man had writhed and struggled, even trying to bite his arms, but he was soon subdued. Now he leaned back, inspecting the lovely, long awaited feast before him.
Saruman struggled against the leather, an unwanted blush upon his face. He felt coils of dread and icy fear settled in the pit of his stomach, they grew tighter as he felt hands begin to run over his chest and somewhat soft belly.
"Now let's see how long it takes to break you…"
8888
Gandalf groaned, his head hurt. He blinked open his eyes and tried to bring his hands up to rub his face. But he could not, it was then he realized just where he was.
In a nightmare.
In a basement.
His hands zip tied behind his back and his feet bound as well.
Without Saruman anywhere near him.
He heard some nearby groans and after a bit of wiggling about he turned over and watched as Ira regained consciousness himself. The detective looked even worse than Gandalf felt, it was obvious the younger man had a broken nose. And several dark bruises marred his pretty face.
"Ira, Ira. Can you hear me?" Asked Gandalf with concern.
"I 'ear you…where are w'?" Slurred the man groggily, his unfocused eyes rolling about.
"A basement. I don't know where. Those bastards ambushed us in Saruman's house."
"I kno'. I tried to stop them on my own'. We see how well that turned out, huh?" He chuckled darkly. His voice a bit muffled due to his nose, but it cleared the more he spoke.
But then realization came to him.
"Where's Saruman?" Ira wiggled about, trying to see around him, but stopped when he head began to throb.
"Not here. But I'm pretty sure I know where." Coils of dark dread and anger twisting about Gandalf's heart as he confirmed to the air what he knew.
Ira's now focused, though slightly pained, eyes met up with Gandalf's for a moment.
"Then we don't have a lot of time. I don't know why they hav'n't done it yet, but eventually someone's going to come down here for us, and it won' be pretty. Any knives or anything useful on you?"
Gandalf took a quick check of himself, wiggly his hips about to feel for lumps in his pockets.
"Nothing, they went through my pockets. I don't even have my wallet with me."
"Same. Then I have no choice."
With that Ira began to huff and puff as he began moving his body about. Gandalf could only stare as the younger man quickly stretched and bent his body so the hands behind his back met with his feet. He watched with a bit of amazement-and dawning realization- as the detective fiddled with the bottom of his left shoe before a bit came away and he was pulling out a small switch blade.
Ira flicked it open and began cutting at the thick plastic. A rueful grin on his face.
Despite his dread, Gandalf felt heartened. If they were clever, and lucky, they'd just might make it out alive. All three of them. And he also might have a-very-desired shot at knocking Sauron's teeth out.
